


Habanera

by LucienneRogue



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Lemon, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 17:25:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15272538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LucienneRogue/pseuds/LucienneRogue
Summary: Antonio’s playful teasing with Chiara has been effectively counteracted by the unexpected agreement to a sarcastic request for drinks. As the night unfolds, Antonio awaits to see what other surprises Chiara has in store, including what will happen after drinks and after the night. Is it all a snarky comeback at his sarcastic remarks or something more?





	Habanera

As he walked along the busy urban sidewalk, Antonio assessed his inconceivable situation. How did Chiara Vargas actually agree to drinks with him? And how was she only slightly begrudgingly walking alongside him? He looked out as far as a city horizon allows upon the dusk settling into darkness, the gleam of street lights and bar signs each beckoning his attention. Antonio slightly averted his eyes down at the Italian girl, as to not make it obvious he was looking at her. She had a slight scorn on her face, probably wondering herself why she agreed to this.  
“Well, this is the place,” Antonio awkwardly broke the silence as he gestured towards a sign protruding from an imminent building.  
“ ‘Due Sorelle’?” Chiara questioned, “what you think taking me to a mockery of my own culture is gonna get you laid?”  
“Well that wasn’t necessarily the goal,” Antonio chuckled and half lied. 

Upon entering, Antonio was relieved that the place was only moderately packed and not too wild. It was a respectable bar, if that’s such a thing. Brick walls outlined with rustic wooden paneling and faux vines all balanced out by a dim lighting set the mood for a typical Italian themed establishment. He wasn’t sure if this would come off as a sweet allusion to her background or a failed attempt to show cultural appreciation. It was the latter. As he led her to a seat at the bar, Antonio thought about the journey to even get her here. He joked with her almost daily about going out with him, but she always had some snarky comeback, usually with a “you horny bastard” thrown in somewhere. He never actually meant to be so pushy; it was always a fun joke between them and he was sure she knew it too, until one day she said, “Fine. Take me somewhere. Treat me to something. I dare you, you horny bastard”. He wasn’t sure if even that was a spiteful sarcastic comeback, but nevertheless he continued the cycle of questionable spite and announced he’d pick her up that night at 7:30. 

“So what do you get?” Chiara forced herself to inquire so to break the tension yet again.  
“Depends what I’m in for,” he replied, “like if I come in with Gilbert or Francis or any other friend I’ll get scotch on the rocks”.  
“What if you come in on a date with a hot girl?”  
“Then I’ll get Pinot”.  
With that, a bartender approached.  
“What can I get for you this evening?” The bartender asked Antonio.  
“Scotch on the rocks, please,” he responded politely.  
Chiara scowled at him as the bartender went to fetch his drink.  
“Bastard,” she muttered.  
“What? You didn’t say this was a date,” he chuckled at her malice.  
“That’s usually what ‘taking me out’ would imply, dumbass”.  
“Oh so you want this to be a date now?” Antonio smirked at her as she grew more and more irritated.  
Before she could respond the bartender returned with his order. He then turned to Chiara to ask for her order.  
“Two tequila shots”.  
The bartender turned around to retrieve the shot glasses and placed them each before the conniving Italian. Antonio looked at her quizzically as she sneered over at the tequila bottle that was being drained into the two little glasses. After the bartender left, she picked up one of the shot glasses.  
“My offering to you, as an appreciation of your culture,” she said handing it over to him.  
“You know tequila is from Mexico, not Spain. Nice try.”  
“Are you gonna take it or not?”  
“Why’d you go straight for shots?”  
“Fine,” she huffed, ignoring his question and downing it herself, “if this is supposed to be a date then I can not be sober for this.”  
“So this is a date?” He grinned slyly.  
“If you keep insisting it is,” she blushed, realizing what she cornered herself into.  
“You’re the one who brought up the concept. Why can’t you be sober for our date?”  
“Because it’s you,” she downed the other, “you expect me to tolerate you for this long outside of the cafe?”  
Chiara and Antonio had been working in a cafe that Antonio’s uncle owned. They were both baristas and subsequently spent a lot of time together in the same, cramped space. He knew she was just nervous, though she’d never actually admit it. He’d usually play along and let her maintain her facade but the nature of her rebellion caused him to worry.  
“Well slow down, we just got here.”  
“Oh you’re right. Two more please!” She shouted over to the bartender.  
“Chiara, dios mios, what are you doing,” he laughed nervously.  
“You said you’d treat me to whatever I wanted. Well, I want you to get me wasted.”  
“At least slow down,” he pressed as her new shots appeared before her.  
“Maybe so,” she paused.

Chiara and Antonio had known each other for years. As family friends, Chiara experienced a lot of him while growing up. He was one of the few constants in her life, even with the sporadic frequencies of contact. They played together as kids, studied together as teens, and now worked together as they attempted to pave the beginning of their young adult lives in the city. Antonio cared for her. They hadn’t seen much of each other before the cafe, since they each went to college in their respective countries, so this reintroduction to Chiara as a blossoming woman was a bit of point of realization for him. Who was Chiara to him really? Just a family friend? An old friend even? Or more?

“I’ll take it anyway,” she quickly snatched the glass.  
“Cielos! Just have wine, okay?” He crossed over her and quickly took the other shot before she could take anymore, then requesting and receiving a glass of wine for her. 

“Still think you’re expected to look out for me?” She referenced the time in their youth when Antonio and she were permitted to explore their town as long as Antonio promised to protect her.  
“Expected to? I want to.” He smiled at her, then sipping his drink.  
“God, stop being to chivalrous, it’s repulsing,” she scowled back at him.  
“You know you love it, Chi,” he went to place a hand on her cheek, hoping she was starting to feel tipsy enough to put her guard down with him.  
She quickly slapped it away.  
“Don’t touch me, you horny bastard!” She exclaimed just loudly enough so not to gain attention from any other bar goers. Her guard was still well and up.  
“Aw Chi,” he cooed.  
She slowly sipped her wine using the large glass to cover her blushing cheeks. 

As the night went on, Chiara was growing more and more inebriated. She began to giggle at everything he said and leaned closer and closer into him. Antonio’s nervousness rose with her persisting openness. 

“Antonio. That’s such a pretty name,” she traced circles into his arm resting on the bar, hand around the base of his half empty second glass of scotch.  
“Almost as pretty as yours.”  
“Oh aren’t you sooooo sweet,” she giggled lightly, voice trailing.  
“How are you feeling, chi?”  
“Oh just splendid, how bout you, bastard?” Her voice swirled as she attempted to raise her head.  
“Pretty alright, but i think we should leave,” he urged, hoping she wouldn’t request another glass of wine.  
“Oh alright.”  
Antonio downed the last of his scotch, and offered to finish what was left in her glass, wincing when he tasted how strong the wine really was. He closed out the tab and ushered her to the door, hailing a taxi. 

Once outside, Chiara leaned on him for support, cuddling into his arm.  
“Where are we going?” She murmured.  
He didn’t know what to do. He felt bad ending their evening with only an hour at a bar, but she was clearly too drunk to function.  
“I’m taking you back to your apartment.”  
“Noooo!” She protested, burying her face into his chest, “Can we pretty please do something else, i wanna do something.”  
Antonio unbuttoned his jacket to allow her to swaddle in his chest, despite donning a jacket of her own. They often both teased each other about their seemingly identical black pea coats, so it was ironic to see them both together and intertwined. Chiara wore a high necked, bell sleeved little black dress which starkly contrasted his casual dark wash jeans and light blue button up shirt. He then figured the safest option.  
“You want to come back to my place? We can play video games or something,” he muttered, awaiting a horny bastard comment, despite the nature of his decision.  
“Sure,” she whispered sleepily.


End file.
